My daughter lay trembling in a hospital bed, dark bruises marking her skin. “They locked me away and hurt me,” she sobbed. At the doorway stood her billionaire husband and his mother, smug and completely unrepentant. “She only fell,” the mother-in-law sneered, looking at my Army uniform with contempt. “Don’t be dramatic. We own the local authorities. Your rank means nothing here.” I didn’t shout. I simply looked at the people who had harmed my child, picked up my phone, and made one call. Thirty minutes later, their empire started collapsing.

I didn't wait for Major Hart or the cyber investigator.

I sprinted to a parked police cruiser, grabbed the corrupt chief by his collar, and threw him forcefully out of his own vehicle.

I jumped into the driver’s seat, slammed the car into gear, and tore out of the estate at eighty miles per hour.

The hospital was only ten minutes away, but every single second felt like an eternity.

Silas’s words echoed in my mind like a horrible poison.

The hospital wasn't just a place where Nadia was taken.

It was the actual command center for the entire two-billion-dollar theft.

I swerved through traffic, running every red light with the police siren wailing into the night.

When I finally slammed the brakes in front of Mercy General Hospital, the military police were already swarming the lobby.

I sprinted through the main doors, practically ripping them off their hinges.

“Where is Nadia?” I screamed at a startled MP standing guard at the front desk.

“She’s still in her room on the fourth floor, Colonel.”

I didn't wait for the elevator.

I took the concrete stairs three at a time, my lungs burning and my bleeding arms entirely numb to the pain.

I kicked open the stairwell door and rushed down the long, sterile corridor toward Nadia’s room.

I expected to find a bloodbath.

I expected to find assassins, or Preston Calder holding a gun to her head.

Instead, I found Vivienne and Preston Calder sitting on the floor in the hallway, their hands securely zip-tied behind their backs.

Detective Mara Bennett was standing over them, holding her weapon casually at her side.

I slowed my pace, deeply confused by the peaceful scene.

“Colonel,” Bennett said calmly.

“We secured the Calders after they tried to sneak back into the building.”

“They confessed to the local fraud to avoid federal treason charges.”

I pushed past the detective and slowly pushed open the heavy wooden door to Nadia’s room.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

Nadia was standing by the window, gazing out at the city lights, completely unharmed.

But before I could speak, I felt the cold, hard barrel of a service pistol press directly against the back of my skull.

Chapter 8 - The Mastermind